The Sorrow of Love: Everything can go so wrong
by Balak
Summary: MT is engaged in his usual battle against the androids when he stumbles upon an unexpected obstacle. He falls in love with Eighteen. Not an AU entirely, but you get it. Chap 9 up. PG for small amounts of blood. Mild swearing. Late but not too late update
1. Prologue

**The Sorrow of Love:  **

**Everything can go so wrong**

Disclaimer:  Oh, intelligent reader, you have stumbled upon the workings of a poor, humble boy.  Ok, so I'm not poor, and I'm pretty sure I'm not humble, but yes, I am a boy!  Writing Romance!  That's right!  And this BOY does not own DBZ or any of its affiliates.  That honor belongs to Akira Toriyama (I think that's right). On with the Story!

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**Prologue******

"Oh god... why me?"

Trunks sat there, looking into the face of an android.  It was cold and warm.  It was evil and noble.  It was dark and bright.  He knew it.  He fell in love with one of the most notorious villains of his time.

It was Eighteen.  He was looking at her from a distance.  Looking, because he couldn't pick up an energy signature, and thus wouldn't have the heart to look away.  He was also crying.  Crying, because she wasn't human.  Her blonde hair flew around while she was destroying buildings, destroying lives.  He could not realize why he had to fall for a creation of a jealous scientist.  She wasn't human in any form.  The only emotion she could feel was hate.  Trunks had enough of that.

Trunks had killed Seventeen under lucky circumstances.  He stepped on a land mine, and Trunks used the small distraction finish the machine off.  It was a happy few moments in his miserable life, and he tried to take what happy moments he had.  This one he brushed away though, as he knew what was forthcoming.

The survivors of Seventeen's attack were eternally grateful, but he flew off before any thanks could be given.  Even then he had more than a slight interest in Eighteen.

There was nothing he could do, though.  She was an evil hearted villain, and he was supposedly the shining paladin trying to take her down.  The ideal hero.  But every hero has his faults.  Trunks' golden armor was corrupted on the inside, tainted by his unrequited love for a nefarious force.

'It would've been easier if Eighteen had been the one who stepped on the land mine,' he thought bitterly.  He wouldn't have to deal with this torture.  Seventeen would've been the one up there, blasting objects into oblivion.  Trunks would've taken him down.  

By normal standards, you could consider Trunks handsome.  But these weren't normal standards.  His blood and the blood of innocents stained his shining purple hair, a token of his lost mother.  His shirt was torn and his bare chest was covered in mud.  His feet had burns on them from the aforementioned mine.  His pants had holes in the knees, and were quite short.  His shoes were long discarded.  His face spoke volumes, though.

The volumes compiled a story.  A story of ruthless killing, deceitful trickery, and hard-earned survival.  A story of vicious beatings, shameful losses, cold death, and unforgiving sorrow.  His story will be the one that will be told.

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A/N:  That was kinda short.  Oh well.  Be sure to review my hopeful piece of work, guys (and most likely girls).  No, I'm not doing this to impress girls, because I think they would be scared off by my personality and my looks before I could recite a story line, or a cheesy poem.  So there!  Anyway, the point of this blurb was to remind you to review.  So do so! The prologue, Chapter one, and Chapter two are short, so bear with me!


	2. The Transformation is complete

**The Sorrow of Love:  **

**Everything can go so wrong**

Disclaimer:  Oh, intelligent reader, you have stumbled upon the workings of a poor, humble boy.  Ok, so I'm not poor, and I'm pretty sure I'm not humble, but yes, I am a boy!  Writing Romance!  That's right!  And this BOY does not own DBZ or any of its affiliates.  That honor belongs to Akira Tokiyama (I think that's right).  And no more disclaimers!  You get it once or twice, you get it all!  NO MORE!  Right then.

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**Chapter one- **

**The Transformation is complete******

"Trunks!"  A silvery voice called, "Trunks! Get over here now!"

The owner of that voice was none other than Bulma Briefs.  She had dull blue hair that was graying.  The wrinkles weren't prominent, but they weren't concealed, either.  Her Capsule Corps jacket commanded respect in earlier times, as it was the most powerful company in its business.  Or any business for that matter.  Unsurprisingly, she was the owner of that very company.  But that was before their paradise (or semi-paradise, living with Vegeta) was violently ruined by a pair of androids who had ascended up to earth from their underground lair.

Those androids had a special mission.  Kill Goku.  It was a mission never accomplished, for Goku had suffered a ferocious heart disease and died because of it.  With their creator killed, the androids were free to rampage their unholy power upon the world.

Her pants were and unremarkable blue.  It was her eyes that defined her.  They were always twinkling—or they always did.  But they still had the same spark of energy, though this energy was derived from determination and hope, and not out of laughter and enjoyment, as of times past.

The recipient of that call was even more energetic, and as it was, he was the world's only hope.  His shining purple hair did nothing to take away from the brilliance of his eyes.  He had that very same jacket that Bulma wore, and short pants, for the textile manufacturers seemed to be tied up with recent matters.

"Mom, couldn't you wait until breakfast is over?" Trunks yelled in reply to his mother.

"I want to show you something!  Get over here!" Her voiced, laced with energy, called back.

"Fine, I'm coming, but you don't have to be so pushy!"

"Oh, Trunks! Just come!  It's really exciting... It's a-" Her voice suddenly cut off as a small pellet of sound was heard.  Trunks panicked.  Her mother couldn't defend herself, and she was a target, regardless of what her mother told him.

"Mom?  Mom!  Answer me!  Is it another one of your jokes?" He said with a laugh.  When there was no answer, he grew serious. "Mom?  Mom!"  He yelled again.   "Is this another one... of... your... jokes..?" He finished pathetically, dreading the answer.

An evil laughter arose from the kitchen.  The laughter, as evil laughs go, was unremarkable, even a tad flat, but it was the creator of the laugh that was unforgettable.  It was Seventeen.  The only one who could accompany him was equally evil.  Her voice complemented his laugh.

"Come on little boy!  You don't seem to have a mother to protect you!  Now you'll have to survive without your bedtime stories—if you survive," The ringing voice taunted.

Trunks rose in anger.  Rage coursed through him, like a venom in his blood, reaching every cell of his body, until his whole mass quivered with an indescribable hate.  Most of the hate was reserved for himself, but the hate he had for the androids had amplified itself.  His purple hair turned a dark gold, and his eyes transformed into a deep aquamarine color, losing the curious flicker in them.  The hair grew out and radiated its color around him as an almost translucent energy.  The room crackled with it.

His muscles bulged, while his natural powers increased twenty fold.  He was unable to protect the last one.  The last one who knew him.  The last one he knew.  His face held true agony.  Misery overwhelmed him.  She was the only one to dampen his current situation.  Her laugh was always able to brighten the mood.  The pain of loss finally reached into him, through him.  It pierced his soul, making its mark upon his heart.  He could take no more, and there was no more to take.  Tears stood waiting at the edge of his now pale eyes.  He blinked and they were brushed away. His yell broke the silence that inhibited the room moments before.  He had finally made the transformation. The transformation to Super Saiyan 2.  The stakes rose.

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A/N:  Well, that was chapter one.  I would like more reviews, as always.  I plan to update every 4-5 days or something like that.  The story was somewhat short and heavily edited after the first draft… now it's about 14 chapters.  I originally wrote this for a contest, but backed out and was kinda scared... two days before the contest ended.  Well, I've entered this into my own contest.  The competitors... me!  The losers have to pay the winner all their money.  To win the contest I have to get 45 reviews.  If I do, I get 13 or so dollars from myself!  How fun!  Anyway, if you feel like letting me win the GOOD way, review.


	3. Battle for Supremacy

**The Sorrow of Love:**

**Everything can go so wrong**

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Chapter Two-

**Battle for supremacy**

The bowl of Crunchy Bears cereal was thrown into another dimension with the blast, where it hit an unsuspecting HFIL administrator.  The energy wave continued on to fling the table back into the kitchen wall, where both disintegrated.  The kitchen could take some power, as it was specially designed to do so, but it had been decimated within a matter of seconds.  Most of the large house was blown away to kami-knows-where, and he wind blew the androids back to the far wall of the house.  After recovering from the shock, they both stuck fighting poses.

Trunks' anger was not something to be reckoned with.  At that moment, at that very time, nothing in the galaxy could measure up to his frustration.  He never felt anything like it.  Not even when his mentor and best friend died-another product of the androids.  Gohan was one of the last people in the fight.  He was in the fight nonetheless.  He himself expected to die, but he would do while defending people, standing up for as long as he could.  He still had a fighting chance.  Bulma didn't.  She didn't even know about it.  Instant and clean.  She hadn't wanted to fight. Like so many thousands of others... possibly millions.  She had wanted the hell to end, like any person of the time.  The life of another was so unnecessarily cut.

The fight itself was surprisingly even, for Trunks did have new power that had never manifested itself before, but never would he have gotten the time to adjust to it, and fight accordingly.  His moves were close to the ones he made at every other attempt to defeat the androids.  They were defensive, and weren't accustomed to lashing out, fighting.  The number of enemies was important also, but not so significant that it overwhelmed Trunks.  Needless to say, nothing could get through his defensive barricade.  They eventually fought their way into a coalmine.  One of the Ki blasts went wide and hit a coal vein.

The resulting explosion tumultuous.  Almost instantly, Trunks was surrounded by a fiery, orange glow.

'This is what hell feels like' thought Trunks.  All of it is burning pain, misery.  The androids had an advantage now.  Small fires by no means could hurt a Saiyan, but when everything around them is burning at an incredibly high heat, they begin to flag.  He suspected Seventeen or Eighteen might've engineered this.

Trunks was getting sleepy.  The extreme heat was getting to his head.  He was about to go unconscious.  His moves slowed down, and the androids delivered their crushing blows.  His fevered mind thought Eighteen's blows were intentionally softer, and he was sure he saw pity in the androids face.  Those thoughts were wiped in a moment as Eighteen delivered a devastating kick.

Seventeen punched him in the face and kicked him into the wall.  The burning, searing pain in his back woke him up effectively, but it did nothing, as the pain put him in danger of blacking out again.

Trunks made a decision on impulse.  With what remaining energy he had, he shot straight up through the ceiling of rock, fire, and coal.  30 feet of rock, fire and coal, his head plowed through and he was free.  He paused and gathered some energy for a brief time.  He flew towards home at a speed faster than he could handle. And the wind beat at his blood-soaked face and penetrated into his capillaries.  His mind pounded with one thought.

'Get away... get far away... Seventeen behind... get away,' Oddly enough his mind excluded any thoughts about Eighteen and he realized it.  His home was destroyed.  And it was his fault.  He couldn't control himself… he was tense.  He disrespected Gohan by throwing away his lessons right there and then.  The shame he felt upon himself was the last emotion that was running through his mind as he fell into the trees.

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A/N:  So the first and second chapters are short…  They will get longer, I promise that!  So how's THAT for development?  OK, so I didn't develop much of anything, but still...  That was my sad attempt at a cliffhanger.  Tell me what you think!  I also decided to update on Sundays on Wednesdays, even though it seems like not many people are reviewing.  It's probably a problem of not reading... Oh well.  The even sadder part about the reviews is that one of them is from a friend... whose screen name I stole on AOL for a while.


	4. The Battle Rages On

**The Sorrow Of Love:** **Everything can go so wrong**

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Chapter Three -  The Battle Rages On 

Eighteen was thinking foreign thoughts as they entered the coalmine.

She wondered who the boy was, and an automatic computer in her head started to run a search program.  Slightly frustrated, she turned it off for the moment.  This wasn't helping.  Interestingly, she thought of the boys hobbies, likes, dislikes and pastimes.  She was aware she had made the question of pastimes an impossible one to answer, seeing the androids took his "extra" time.  These feelings were slightly exciting and new, but she passed them off as one of Dr. Gero's mistakes.  It had to be a problem with the programming.  Must've been a time-set program, knowing what she felt now was not something she felt before.  She shook theses thoughts off.  She needed to concentrate.

The coalmine was a cramped place, she noticed and left no margin of error for Trunks.  The androids however…

Seventeen laughed when he realized that his Ki blast shattered a coal vein and started a fire.  To think he'd been scared!  That thought was laughable!  He now pounded on the disadvantaged hybrid.  He saw the weariness in Trunks' form. Ha.  A weakness of Humans, it surely was.  Affected by heat and the disability of getting tired.  Trunks was done for.  He had to learn nothing could stand the wrath of androids.  

Eighteen was almost horrified at what Seventeen had done.  She said or showed nothing, though.  Just to prove to herself that nothing was wrong, she tried to maul upon Trunks.  Something was holding her back, restraining her.  It was like a tugging at her non-existent mind.  It was as if it was telling her that Trunks didn't deserve this.  Emotion flashed on her face for a slight second.  She pondered this for a moment when she suddenly got enraged.  She was mad at herself for that show of weakness.  Weaknesses were for humans.  She delivered an unusually heavy blow to compensate it.  

Seventeen took advantage of the current situation, and punched the precious trunks in the face before immediately kicking him into a burning wall.  Seventeen smiled again.

In a sudden move no one expected, Trunks plunged through the ceiling.  Seventeen was annoyed.  He just about had the little bitch!  And he had the nerve to escape. Or try.  He knew what this was about.  He'd been watching the human for years.  He knew.

Eighteen was about to plunge after him, when Seventeen warned after it.

"He'll come back, it's a diversion.  He's trying to surprise us.  The fool.  We can wait.  We have all the time in the world" Seventeen said as he chuckled.

Somehow Eighteen doubted this, but she held back.  It was no use trying to prove him wrong.  She couldn't sense the energy levels because of the blazing fires, and right now, she trusted Seventeen's judgment more than her own.

If you discounted the almost merry crackling of the fire as it wore down the walls, it was a quiet wait.  Contrary to what he said earlier, Seventeen was getting impatient.

"What's taking this boy," he spat out the word, "so long?  Did he think he could run away?  The daft fool!"

They both realized it was too late as they followed his trail through the rock.  Seventeen was outraged.  Eighteen's face mirrored his own, but for reasons she knew not.  False thoughts ran through her head, almost as if she was in denial of the feeling that she didn't know she had.

Seventeen came up with a slough of names to call Trunks as his frustration was let out. In the middle of the tirade, he stopped, looking curiously at Eighteen.

"Slippery bastard... Eighteen, are you Ok?  You haven't said a word all week."

It was true.  She had been subdued as of late and Seventeen had suspected bad programming by Dr. Gero, but said nothing.

"Nothing... just Gero being an idiot, that's all.  Seventeen, how about we lure Trunks to us by destroying Bridgetown.  That'll get his righteous ass out here"

"Eighteen, we did that already.  The city is in dust.  You sure you're ok?  Not like you have the new heart disease," he smirked cheekily as he said this.  Eighteen laughed at this.  Though, in the back of her mechanical menagerie of a mind, she didn't doubt that some heart ailment plagued her.

"We're going to Southtown... I think he had a connection to that place somehow"

"Fine, we can go... I don't have any mechanical problems"

The androids flew at an incredible speed towards the direction of Southtown, which lay conspicuously north.  As they were flying they spotted a small army encampment.  Quite normal, it seemed, but it was fully manned at a time when all the countries had banded together to stop the androids.  The manned base did not go unnoticed.

"Eighteen!  Stop!  We have more... "Test subjects".  These pathetic humans have decided to set up a base to fight amongst each other.  Personally, I'm insulted...  We're not a threat big enough?  We'll show them."  He displayed that cruel grin that many saw before the last fleeting seconds of their lives were wiped.  Many had learned to run from it.  Everyone learned to fear it.

"It may have been put here to stop us"

"They would!' He laughed in glee, disregarding what his assumptions earlier, as if he was right all along.  "No one seems to know the extent of our powers"

"The boy does"

Seventeen snarled in response.  "He'll die soon enough"

Eighteen couldn't help but feel that the threat was empty.  She frowned.

"Eighteen!  Eighteen!  Looking down about the death? Ha!  You know as well as I do that he **will** die."  Eighteen was shaken out of her reverie as her brother unwittingly pointed out Eighteen's problem.  "Let's just get on with the excursion of the base, then we'll see what he does."  Both grinning again, they descended.

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Trunks woke up disturbed.  Why was he feeling so worthless?  Then the wave of memory washed over him.  He felt suddenly weak, and reeled.  Lifting his hand, he touched his face.  He hissed in pain and quickly withdrew.  Dried blood covered his face, as if he were a painting the artist was too disgusted to finish with.  He got up again, slowly this time, and looked down.  He looked a mess.  He didn't much care, but he was bleeding in many more places.  The soles of his yellow boots had melted off and he discarded the charred remains of the rest.  He was disgusted with himself.  Not just what he looked like, but at what he'd become.

'Thinking non-existent thoughts about a piece of machinery.  Still, there was something about the pity, an understanding about—NO!  Crazy thoughts.' He banished them and looked down at himself again.

'So much like I deserve, ripped, burnt, and bleeding.  Hmph' He looked at his watch and discovered it was melted to his wrist.  In a very vented frustration he ripped it off his skin and discovered he could bleed even more.  'This is it.  I'm eating it.'

He opened his now ripped jacket and extracted a small, unharmed, velvet bag and out of it he pulled out a small, green bean.

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The installment was buzzing like a beehive.  The androids were here!  Everyone had their doubts about the defeat of the aforementioned androids, but no one noticed as the fluid rule and discipline dashed all opinion about the upcoming fight.  In record speeds they all got their weapons or vehicles and readied their positions.

As helicopters lifted off, missiles fired and the ack-ack of anti-air could be heard.  Tanks assumed artillery positions and artillery cannons were rolled out beside the tanks.  Infantry rushed out in scattered groups and fired upon the two most feared teenagers in existence.

Eighteen grinned at them.  They faltered.  Seventeen watched in amusement as Eighteen flew down to one soldier and look at him seductively.  They all watched in fear as Eighteen continued to toy with him.  She put his finger on his chin and moved it up towards his ear as she smiled.  She then grabbed his stubbly chin and turned it to look at both his cheeks.  She laughed wickedly as she put her finger to his chest and fired.  His lifeless eyes still showed shock as he fell, hitting the mud with a sickening splat.

The other soldiers watched in horror as she fired at each one of them, displaying deadly accuracy.  The tried to run, but to no avail.  All the ballistae divisions could only fire upon Seventeen, hoping they didn't miss, as they couldn't hit Eighteen without damaging the soldiers.

As soon as she was sure she eliminated the whole division she flew back up.  Occasionally, a machine gun could still be heard, but the gunner and the androids both knew it was hopeless.  Seventeen practiced shooting moving targets as the rockets from the helicopters were fired, and Eighteen seemed to take great joy upon taking a fired artillery shell and hurling it at random targets, usually the originators.

Suddenly, Seventeen was gone as a missile finally hit him.  The troops cheered and concentrated their fire upon the remaining android.  Eighteen feigned shock and helplessness when suddenly, a tank blew up.  Then another.  More this time.  The troops morale suddenly dropped.

A small laugh was heard as a grin, resplendent in their minds flashed before their eyes, like that of a Cheshire cat.  All hell broke loose as they tried to run.  The soldiers in the tanks abandoned their charges as they tried to escape the death holes.

In the horizon to the south, a warm, yellow—no, golden—glow appeared.  Few knew what to make of it.  Everyone was rooted to their spots as they prepared to either be saved or annihilated.

Minutes passed as the glow grew brighter and brighter.  Many hoped it was God, or Kami finally arriving.  Little did they know the androids killed him.  Nonetheless, the glow continued to come.  Many men fell on their knees and prayed.  Nobody else moved, as they stared in awe.  Inside the glow, a bloodied boy appeared in view.  His face was filled with loathing reserved for two people: the androids.

As they both ascended they looked over to the horizon.  A strange disturbance was appearing.  They turned on their scouters, but the figure was too far away.  They tried telescopic view, but it was still too far away.  They hung back, vaguely wondering what it was.  All too soon for them they saw what It was.  The glow was incasing a furious boy... no, it was a man.  The glow was incasing a man.  A furious, yellow—no, golden—haired, blue-eyed man.

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As the man was flying he was aware of what he was feeling.  Shame. Hopelessness.  He was feeling suicidal.  The shame was for his defeat after his sudden power surge.  His hopelessness was from eating the last sensu bean left in the earth, maybe galaxy.  His suicidal thoughts derived from his loss... his mother, Gohan, Dende, Yamcha, Tien, Choatzu, Goku… all of his friends… many who couldn't even dream of the power to defeat the androids.  They fought nonetheless.  Most of them had no hope.  Why did he even have to live?  He didn't know.  All he knew is that at least one person would meet their demise 2 hours from now.

This man was battered by the cruelty of war, and hardened by loss.  He flew at his top speed. Towards the sound of destruction.

He finally arrived in silence.  Everyone below had their eyes riveted upon those above.  It turned out to be a standoff.  The cold wind blew as Trunks looked at the two killers.  More specifically he look at Seventeen, avoiding Eighteens icy gaze.  The wind howled as it increased.  Trunks fired upon Seventeen.

They both flew at each other.  Kicks were dodged, and punches were blocked, as both seemed at a stalemate.  They flew back and took a few passes at each other through the air, slowly descending.  At the last one, Trunks fired a few very powerful, but horribly inaccurate energy balls.  Seventeen eyes widened, and the wind rose up to a gale.  Behind him, an Artillery cannon blew up, and a few seconds later, Seventeen was hit with an energy ball.  Surprised, he flew back, landing on an empty swath of dirt.

An insane glint appeared in Seventeen's eye as Trunks lowered himself to the field of dirt.  Suddenly, Seventeen flew at Trunks and started letting off punches and kicks and occasional finger blasts, as Trunks moved to dodge, evading each one of them.

Seventeen flew back, with revulsion on his face.  He said in a voice very much masking his fear, "I see.  You're nimble Jack.  Jumping over candles, eh?  Heh heh, well, he wasn't strong, and **neither are you!**"  He rushed again and Trunks sidestepped.  Seventeen was enraged.  He ran at Trunks again, but there was an explosion under his foot.  Normally this mine would do no damage, but in his present condition Seventeen felt it was quite a nuisance.

In that small second it took Seventeen to look down Trunks jumped up as if he planned this along and cleanly kicked off Seventeen's head.  The body's knees buckled, and seemed still for a second.  Then suddenly it fell down to the ground, making a terrible sound.   It's back threw up dust.  The circuits inside snapped, sparks flew up in the air and it stood still.  The falling of a giant.

Trunks' face was filled with disgust.  That was the last thing Seventeen saw as Trunks stepped on him, crushing the fragile head and the chip inside.  The light inside winked off.  The wind died down.

The Golden Man looked up, dreading the next fight, when all he saw was the fleeing figure of Eighteen.  Something was glistening off her beautiful face.  The crystal drop fell off.  Seconds later, Trunks felt something fall on his face.  It rolled down into his open mouth.  It tasted of salt.  It was a tear.

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A/N: HA! I told you it was longer!  I combined two chapters, which I will do to every update from now on!  That makes this ummm… I don't really know how long.  Part one would be Thirteen Chapters overall.  I don't know if I should make a part two or not.  How about when I'm all done you should tell me, through e-mail or reviews.  I think this is one of my better chapters, and the last one was one of my worse ones.  On Wednesday then!


	5. Reflections and Roots

**The Sorrow Of Love:**

 Everything Can Go So Wrong 

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Chapter Four- 

** Reflections and Roots**

Eighteen watched from above, hoping neither would die, but knowing who would.  She looked at the boy—No, man.  He was determined to win, and he would.  She looked at her hysterical brother.  She couldn't fight after him.  Not because of the power she had, but because she still felt that insistent pulling.  She couldn't tell what the pulling was.  No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't place it.  Her brother was dieing, and she couldn't avenge him.  She started tearing for two reasons.  Her brother, the only companion she had, and the man...

'Weakness.  I'm showing weakness.  I can't go down there.  Why? Why?!  I must know why?!' she thought, and gasped vehemently.  She looked down again.  The body fell.  As it hit the dirt, she flew off.  She couldn't stand it.  The wind stung her eyes as the tears stopped.

"Why do I feel this way?  Who is he?"

'His name is Trunks.  He lives in Capsule Corp. Headquarters.  His Power Level is 4,000,000 last measured' an automatic voice in her head responded.

"Shut up, shut up, shut up!  I don't want to know that!  I want to know him!" She said, hysterically.  Her hair flew as she kept on shaking her head, holding it in her hands, as if the pressure alone could extinguish the pain.  She was getting frustrated.  She was having a psychosomatic headache, unable to process all this at once.

'His name is Tr-'

"Shut up! I know!  Stop... I know... I know..."  She was almost calming down, but was becoming more desperate.

'Cannot comply.  Briefing Mission Statement.  Primary Mission: Kill Goku.  Cannot be completed.   Reverting to Secondary Mode.  Annihilation.'

Eighteen screamed.  "STOP STOP STOP!" In a desperate last attempt to get the voices out of her head, she stuck her fingers in her ear and pulled out a small chip.  She threw it into the air, and blasted it with energy.  Her breathing was labored.  She knew she really didn't breath, but it was automatic.  Sucking air in, and forcing it out.  Her hair was askew and dirty.  Her hands slowly lowered themselves from her head.  

Shivering, she landed on the ground.  She started feeling all new things, unknown to her... memories.  Memories of times past flooded her.  The funny, the sad, the happy, the tragic coursed throughout her system.  And she felt love.  She felt love for her brother and her father.  A new wave of tears engulfed her at her brother's fate.  She didn't have time to reflect on this alone.

'Hello, Eighteen.  How are you doing?' A voice in her head had said.  Only this time, it wasn't the database.  It was Dr. Gero.

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"What is it?  What have I done?  Why am I torturing my self?"  The man said, yelling at himself, " I've done well, I know.  Those people... they don't cheer for nothing.  But, what do they know?  Not what I do.  But what do I know?"

Trunks had long left the base, flying aimlessly.  He had the vague sensation of being headed towards home, but he didn't take care to notice.

A malicious voice answered for him, inside is very own head. 'You know nothing'

"What?" He stoppedin mid-flight, fearing he was going slightly insane, which wouldn't have been surprising.

'I meant just what I said.  You know nothing.'

"What are you—I talking, thinking... What's going on?"  He cut himself off.  He lowered himself, so he would have some sort of a field to stand on, which was the only thing he could trust that would support him.

'Thick boy.  To think I fathered you.  YOU KNOW NOTHING.'  The voice pounded inside his head. Trunks sank to his knees, making his knees ache along with the throbbing pain in his head.  Trunks finally gathered that the voice inside his head was not his own.

"Father..."

'Yes, finally catching on.  Have you no pride?  Get up.  NOW!'

"Yes... Father" He said as he got up reverently, gazing this way and that for the source of the voice.

'You won't see me.  This is no time to be sentimental.  Don't you see what's happening?'

"What's happening?"  Trunks asked, confused.  He felt a whack at the back of his head, which for once was able to push his head forward.  He turned around baffled.  There was nothing there.

'Stop looking.  Just listen.  And answer.  Do you know what's happening?'

Trunks hesitated.  "No, I don't" Trunks finally stated after a brief moment of confusion.

'I shouldn't even tell you.  Any normal Saiyan would've figured it out, but you... thick baka.'

Trunks felt another smack to his head and he felt a presence leave.  After a brief check over himself, Trunks felt he was going insane.  Voices in his head, Eighteen, remorse over a death of... an android...  This pent up frustration tore at him in many ways, trying to get out.

He suppressed them, hoping to get away.  His head split.  He screamed.  Rays of light seemed to penetrate his body as he held his head in his hands.  He sank to his knees again and his hair flared up.  Suddenly his eyes fired a steady laser.  A red glow encompassed his hands and expanded to the size of Trunks himself.  The two red globes discharged and battered Trunks along with the surrounding scenery.  As he finally fell to the ground, his eyes stopped firing and the light stopped coming out of his body.  His hair turned slowly purple and laid flat.  A large yellow, no golden orb surrounded him.  It too, slowly got larger until it could encompass a large house.  Then it started pulsating for a few seconds until it also exploded, knocking out Trunks and everything within a ten mile radius in the blast.  Everything within two miles of the epicenter was unrecognizable and wouldn't be able to grow anything for a decade.  And in the middle of it all was a small, purple haired, bloodied, bruised and altogether hurt man.

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'Well I suspect you're doing just fine...  If you were able to take out that chip just like a big girl!' Gero's voice mocked her.  'I assume you must be experiencing memory now.  That chip was also a suppression along with its information. Ironic, isn't it?  Ha! You don't know what I rescued you from do you?  No!  Don't take this recording out.  It's attached to your... core supply' He said this just as Eighteen was reaching into her ear again.  She looked shocked.

'Oh no, I'm not alive and watching you.  This is a recording so that I may safeguard you.  I assume I'm dead of course.  Tsk Tsk.  You shouldn't have killed me.  Maybe I should tell you what I rescued you from.  Your mother.  Eh?  You remember now?  She was... the witch.  That's what you called her, yes?  You always wanted that "magic" to show her what for, didn't you? I gave it to you.  Unfortunately I also knocked out your memory.  You probably already killed her.  You wouldn't know.  Well, I may refresh your memory of her.  She was the one that abused you.  The malicious beatings.  Now that you, shall we say, woke up, the beatings may be fresh in your mind.  You are probably wondering why this recording is even here.  I've installed this as a safeguard.  You're wondering how this voice can be a safeguard.  I can tell you that I'm very skilled with explosives.  As soon as this voice stops talking to you, a timed bomb will start ticking down the hours.  It'll go off in... hmm... a random time.  As soon as it does go off, both you and your only companion will find yourselves less than dust.  Yes, he suffers because of you.  So we shall see when it happens.  I don't know, you don't know.  Eighteen, you should've really listened to me. You really should have.'

As if to punctuate his voice, a large bang was heard not too far away...

Hours later, Trunks woke up with a groan.  His mind was stressed. So much so, that he had a headache.  It took him a while to find out why.  He couldn't help but groan again when he figured it out. His body was beaten, his mind was broken, his bones were on fire, and worst of all, is heart was bruised.  He had never felt a pain like this before, mentally or physically.  He needed something... a place to stay.  He needed a sanctuary.

Automatically, he headed for home.  Again, halfway there, he realized it was gone, and with a jolt, he realized that everything was gone.  Before today, Bulma was his safe spot.  Untouched, uncorrupted.  She held no sign of the approaching darkness.  She was the embodiment of hope itself.  'I can't go back there.  They destroyed my home. They...'  And with another wild beat of his heart he realized that he was the one. 'I destroyed it.  I was careless.  It was my goddamn Transformation!  Even that wasn't much help.  I'm an idiot!' He yelled to his mind, berating himself over and over.  He hadn't realized that he finally arrived at his destination until he landed. He looked around.  There wasn't much... but a flash of blue caught his eye.  

"Mom!"  He yelled, as he ran over to the blue sight.  But it was just hair, lying flat on the ground.  He looked up, dreading he's see a fried corpse.  He was surprised.  His mom was preserved.  Bu her eyes were still open, glazed over.  She was deathly silent.    Trunks was crushed.  This wasn't his mom.  There wasn't that flicker in her eye.  There wasn't that sense of love that was ever-present around her.  No feeling of upcoming chatter, no surprise in her voice, no... nothing.  Trunks looked at his hands, trembling.  It was these hands that caused her death.  And inadvertently, Gohan's too.  If he hadn't tried to join that fight... he wouldn't have been so set on protecting Trunks.  He pulled them up to his face.  His eyes leaked tears.  For the first time since Gohan died, he cried.  Cry like he never had before.  He cried for the entity of Goku of whom he never met.  He cried for the for the soul of Gohan, of whom he was a kindred spirit.  He cried for the mothering Bulma, his only steady point.  He cried for Vegeta, for it was he that Trunks drew his strength from, though not meeting in this lifetime.  But mostly he cried for himself.  He cried for himself and the world.

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At the end of the message, she looked far for the procurement of the bang, and if she heard right, a scream with it.  She could see nothing from her vantage in the air, but she felt a slight wind from where she heard the bang.  Only one thing left was strong enough to do that...

"Trunks..?  Trunks! Oh god... Trunks"  She said almost despairingly as she racked her mechanical nerves to sense Trunks' Ki.  There wasn't anything close to Trunks' Ki in that general direction, or any direction for that matter.  Her eyes widened.  "Trunks... You're gone.  I don't know... dead?  No... He can't be! H can't b—" her mutter turned into a yell before she abruptly stopped.  What was this?  A few days ago, she would've laughed at the prospect of a dead Trunks, even missed seeing it.  There was nothing in that damned database to define it.  Useful as a soup sandwich, it was.  Her memory was put to use for the first time in fifty years.  Her head hurt a little, but she ignored it.  What was this strange feeling?  The pulling?  Sacrifice?

Then she found it.  High school popped into her head.  How foolish she was then.  But there had been two people.  Her Brother and a girl she couldn't quite place.  Launch?  No... Lunch.  He liked... no... wrong word.  L... l-u... not quite right.  Close.  Wing it from there.  L-u-... b?  Lub... not right either.  L-u-... V! Luv!  Quite close.  LOVE!  As soon as she thought that word the weight of the declaration hit her like a brick, or rather it hit her like a brick would hit a normal person.  A madness came over her.

"It's a weakness!  It's a flaw!  It's an imperfection!  My Achilles' Heel!"  She stopped her ranting and thought of what possessed her to say that. Achilles' Heel?  What was that?  She filed over her memory again.  That's what her brother said.   About Lunch.  He tried to destroy the weakness, but he couldn't, and wouldn't have the heart to kill her at the time.  If he had been an android then...

It annoyed him that he turned out to love such a ditz.  What had he done?  Ah yes, he hired a Japanese magician to curse her so that he wouldn't have to fall for innocence like that.  The magician cast the corruption curse or something and at the exact same time, she sneezed.  The curse was interrupted and Lunch was cursed with a never-ending head cold.  Every time she sneezed she changed from a innocent little klutz to a hardened criminal, or at least the personality of one.  In days she was on the run from the police.  They never saw her again.  Most likely because weeks after, Dr. Gero was on the move with the Red Ribbon Army, and they were captured as test subjects.  Not until Goku defeated them had Gero actually used them both.  Achilles.  Invincible.  Everywhere, except in his heel.  Very inconspicuous place.  Died when a poisoned arrow hit him there.  Like Trunks' death.  A poisoned arrow.

Eighteen's mind was ravaged.  It hurt so much, with her sudden realization of what happened along with the death of Trunks.  '_Pain isn't the only way to hurt someone'_.  This shocked her mind, and rocked the principles that had been set down fifty years ago.  Everything is falling apart.  Everything went so wrong.  Everything.

Eighteen flew to the last place she felt comfort.  She flew Home.  To the town she was born in.

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            A/N:  OK, this chapter wasn't as good as the last one, but I try.  At least I think the last chapter was better.  Up to you really.  This chapter so far was hardest one to write.  I started writing last Tuesday, but I kept on having my attention diverted.  I barely got it in Today (Saturday)  If I didn't' finish it today I don't think I would've managed by Wednesday... Oh yeah, expect the chapters after 9/3 to be somewhat rushed unless I write them soon.  That's when School starts. I don't mind really.  I just got bored out of my mind.  I thought about posting this fic sometime in June, but I had to go to Bangladesh.  Then I reread the fic (wrote it last year for a contest... missed out on it) and I couldn't believe how horrible it was.  So I just use the paper I printed out last year as an outline and a place to find some cool adjectives.  I think maybe the ones posted on Sunday will be better than the ones on Wednesday.  That's enough Gab from me now.  Review!


	6. Wonderful Home

The Sorrow Of Love:

   Everything can go so wrong

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Chapter Five-

Home

As She landed her programming almost overwhelmed her.  All these living, normal people.  Perfect Homes.  She felt the need to destroy. Her face screwed up in concentration and then in pain as her knees buckled.  Her hands held her head again, and she kept shaking her head from side to side.

Many a passerby noticed this strange behavior with more than idle curiosity.  It was a very communal town, even after it's recent expansion.  Especially because of the recent attacks.  It was very important to remain communal in these hard times.  Some ran up to this strange woman, concerned.  Where had they seen her before?  Why was she strange in this town?  Why was she acting so?  And most importantly... Was she OK?

The crowded her.  Stifling and enclosing the space in which she was fighting herself.  In a brief moment of sanity, she looked up and told them to run—far.  Then the gleam returned to her eye.  She feel to the ground, still holding her head in her hands, occasionally, forcing herself to shake her head, mumbling things like 'get out of my head' or 'no, I won't'.  This, of course, made the people crowd her even more.

"Is she insane?"

"Who is she?"

"Why is she here?"

"Is she insane?!"

"D'you think she wants water?"

"Does anybody want to feel her temperature?"

"Tell me if she's insane!!"

"You take her temperature!"

"She just fell from the sky"

"I WANT TO KNOW IF SHE'S INSANE!!"

Everyone looked at the boy who said this, then at the woman and backed up from both of them.  The boy looked mortified.

"You can't leave me here!  Wait!"  He yelled, and he took a step forward. But a hand pulled him from behind.

"It's OK," the mysterious woman said and anticipated the next questions.  She reassured them that she was fine, and experienced a large headache.  She smiled at him, remembering when she had been a small little girl.  She was innocent then.  Almost shamed, she walked away.

She automatically assumed a hunched position, where she seemed to close off the rest of the world.  Now that she was here, she didn't know what to do. Go to her old house?  No, Dr. Gero himself demolished that.  No mother, or father.  Then her head snapped up.  Mother?  No.  She was most definitely not a mother.  She was... a childbearing woman.  Eighteen stopped in the middle of the street she was walking, and started thinking.  As her eyes glazed over, the crowd of people walked tentatively over to her.

"Maybe we should put her somewhere safe"

"Safe for who?"

"She must've rattled her head when she fell from the sky"

"Maybe we should just give her more water"

"I still think she's insane"

"She said she wasn't"

"Safe for her, of course"

"Right"

"Somebody should still take her temperature"

"I know what to do!"

"She looks like Sara"

"You just want me to break up with Sara"

"I know what to do!!"

"And if I do want you to?"

"Fine, I'll take her temperature"

"NO! I KNOW WHAT TO DO!"

Everyone looked at the boy again, albeit questionably.

"We should be... hospitable.  Give the woman her own room.  A _padded _room.  For one, so she doesn't get crowded, and maybe her own jacket, with _extra long sleeves_."

Everyone looked at each other, then again at the boy.  Why Not? They wondered, collectively.  It seemed proper.  And it was safe.  Safe for her, of course.  They wouldn't _dream_ of putting their own safety first.  The all dragged the stiff android, who seemed to deep in thought to notice.

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Trunks got up and looked around.  Everything seemed so deathly bare.  Everything was so deathly silent.

_Death, Death, Death.  _It was a litany in his head.

He looked at Bulma.  'Why wasn't she caught in The Blast?'  He looked around.  There seemed to be scorch marks on the ground wherever there was resistance from The Blast.  There was a scorch mark not under Bulma, but in front of her.  And behind her.  There were peculiar marks inside the scorch marks.  They were footprints.

_Death, Death, Death._  It repeated.

He peered at them.  Apparently, Seventeen's black gun, as much a symbol of death as the scythe of the Reaper himself, seemed to have landed right behind the second set of footprints.  So, Eighteen stopped his mother's vaporization.  She probably didn't realize what she was doing.  But... Bulma would've seen her, before...

_Death, Death, Death._  It happens to everyone.  It happened to everyone.

Eighteen did it consciously.  And went through some trouble to stop Bulma from being obliterated.  How did she know?  She knew that he was going to change?  No, she couldn't have.  He didn't even know.  She must've suspected an energy blast heading towards them.  That's assuming she even cared about Bulma's Death.

_Death, Death, Death._  The only person he knew of that wasn't dead was Eighteen.  And himself, of course, but he died when Gohan did.  Bulma's Death buried him.

Her cold hand was gripping something.  He hadn't noticed this before.  A small box of some sort, with a small antennae.  A large red button protruded from it.  Trunks look at it, shocked.  This must've been the thing Bulma was carrying on about.  It might...  it would...  It would disable the androids!  'Too late he thought.  One of them is dead.  And the other...  I don't know. Probably kill herself.'  Without thinking anymore, he decided it couldn't hurt to have it, so he put it in one of his protected pockets.

_Death, Death, Death_.  He had now killed the harbringer of death.  Or did he?  One more left...

He might as well complete his death, but first.  He lifted his arm up, palm facing forward.  He blasted the ground ahead of him with enough energy allotted for a hole in the ground, about six feet around, and four feet down.  At least, he thought he did.  A very small blast was issued from his hand, creating a very small hole.  He was confused.  What was blocking him?

_Death, Death, Death._  It grew louder, almost demanding his attention.

His concentration was probably muddled.  He pulled his mind to it, his brow wrinkled, covering with glistening sweat and previously dried blood.  He felt the pull of his own energy and willed it toward his arm.  Something was not quite right.  Nevertheless, he continued.  He let it accumulate to what he thought would be the right amount.  He released again.  It was the same effect, but slightly more powerful.  Trunks was getting frustrated.

_Death, Death, Death._  It drove itself to the front of his mind, where it was promptly ignored.

In his anger he fired unconsciously.  He expected to see a huge gaping whole in his floor, but all he saw was a hole with the rough proportions of a grave, if maybe a bit smaller.  This angered him more, but he kept calm and released his energy by taking many short labored breaths.  He carried his mother's limp, cold form and brought it to the hole.  He closed her glazed eyes, which were disturbing.  They still had the feeling of excitement within them, but the energy was gone, the hope was gone from her eyes.  Trunks took this as a very serious omen.

_Death, Death, Death._  It was insistent.  It pushed itself to the forefront of his thoughts.

He buried her and covered the body with the rest of the floor, neatly replacing the broken tile.  He took one clean tile from somewhere else and jammed it in the cracks between the front of the disturbed floor.  It was a headstone, blank and silent.

_Death, Death, Death._  It invaded his thoughts.  He knew what he was going to do.

He silently went to the large basement of his house, avoiding the cracks and gaps in the stairs.  He calmly walked towards the bleak storage area.  Out of the cabinet, he pulled out a long knife.  He was going to do this.  He kneeled down on the ground, holding the large knife over his head.  He was about to perform Hari Kiri.

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Eighteen sat in her cell in the asylum, not really minding the current situation.  She was too absorbed in her mind to care anyway.  She was thinking of her family.  Her parents were divorced, but she only remembered that after she remembered how long a court preceding could occur.  She apparently hadn't learned how to skip thoughts.  That's all she learned before she started to remember why they divorced.

_They were running around in the field.  What a life it was for a seven-year-old.  It was just her brother and her.  Holding imaginary races with imaginary crowds and catching very real butterflies. Wrestling many times, trying to get the best of the other twin.  Many hours were spent in that field when they both heard a growl in her stomach._

_"I guess its dinnertime" He said, his eyes wide._

_"I bet we're late.  Mom's gonna be mad" She responded, eyes downcast.  He nodded solemnly.  They didn't like it when mom was mad._

_"Let's stay here.  Mom's never been here, so we could sneak in when she sleeps.  She couldn't find us," He whispered conspiratorially.   She looked up amazed._

_"Mom's gonna find us.  She always does.  That's Mom." She said shakily._

_"We can hide...  when we get home and get up from bed we can act like nothing happened.  Dad'll act with us."_

_"Mom'll think she's going insane!  It'll be fun!"  She said, changing her disposition._

_"Yea!"_

_They kept on running around the field, but getting hungrier every moment.  It was hard to ignore, but they tried.  The sky was getting dark, and they didn't know what to do. _

_"I'm soooo hungry," He said as he stamped his foot on the ground._

_"I know, but Mom wouldn't let us eat all if we came home anyway."_

_"She's probably asleep.  It's 10:00.  It's past __our__ bedtime!  We could sneak something from the kitchen.  You know dad falls asleep before then.  Maybe Mom will too!"_

_Her mouth formed a small "o" of wonder.  Could it work?  "OK!  But we have to be," her voice suddenly turned low, "quiet"._

_They tiptoed their way to their house, even though it was far enough away so that they wouldn't have to tiptoe.  They weren't about to take chances with their Mom.  They silently opened the well-greased door and looked around.  The lights were off.  That was good.  They silently crept to the kitchen, mirroring each other's movements.  Good.  No one was there.  She opened the fridge and he opened the cabinet.  Big mistake.  As soon as the cabinet door opened, a clutter of cans fell down on him.  He was almost literally buried.  His head popped up and looked at her in surprise.  She looked at him; clearly hoping it wouldn't be heard.  She was terrified.  As soon as she turned around to look in the fridge she screamed.  There was a large Goblin mask inside.  She quickly shut up, realizing her mistake._

_"So.  You decided to grace us with your presence?" A woman said.  The children turned around.  They were shocked.  They should've __known__ that Mom would be expecting this.  Thankfully, another figured appeared.  It was dad._

_"Oh, hello children.  I'm glad you decided to finally come home.  I—we were worried." He said, looking at his wife._

_"Yes, we were... worried.  Dear, you can go sleep now; I'll take care of them.  Just hop upstairs.  That's right.  Now as for you two..." The children looked at each other as Mom said this.  They needed dad to... protect them._

_"WHY were you out?"_

_"We were just playing... we didn't know the time"_

_"We fell asleep, we weren't hungry"_

_Their answers overlapped.  They looked at their mother in horror.  Another bad mistake.  "So, you were playing, asleep, full, and without a watch?  I find that hard to believe.  Boy, let me look at your arm!"_

_He tried to stuff his watch up his sleeve, but to no avail.  His mother roughly grabbed the offending arm and lifted him up by the appendage._

_"I see this.  This is your watch.  It's still glowing.  You JUST checked the time. You knew it was there.  Were you perhaps... avoiding me?  I hope I'm not right about THAT." She hissed acidly, with a touch of sarcasm in her voice._

_They both looked at her with fear.  Why didn't she like them?  What was wrong?_

_She threw him down on the floor, bruising him.  She picked the girl up by her neck holding it above her head._

_"And you!  Asleep?  I know what your hair looks like after you sleep!  It's still in the spray!" She bitingly said.  Suddenly a voice was heard._

_"Honey?  Do you know where that... Oh my god... what are you doing!  Honey...  they're our kids, how could you! It's... STOP!"  Her husband yelled.  The father of the children was shocked.  This was going on for seven years?  How could he not know?_

_She raised her hand.  It was a little known fact that this housewife was actually a 3rd degree black belt who gave up on her apprenticeship after meeting her husband.  He didn't even know.  She bore down on him, hand held high above her head, and with a murderous look on her face.  The husband himself had a look of pure terror, but also one of defiance. Her hand connected with his face and his glasses fell off, lying broken on the floor.  He couldn't stand what he just saw.  That would explain why his son always had a bloody lip, or his daughter a black eye.  They wouldn't tell him why.  He clenched his fist and punched her in the stomach.  Unfortunately, an old friend appeared in the doorway.  The door was open after the children's silent entrance and he looked upon this "heinous" act._

_"Bob, she's your wife.  What are you doing to her?" the friend said, mortified.  The children ran to him, hiding behind his legs, screaming for daddy.  He misinterpreted._

_"She's... been, she was..." He finished off despairingly, looking to the children for help._

_"Ow!  How could you do this to me! I loved you!" The woman cried.  She was quite an actor, it seemed.  She started sobbing and actual tears came out.  His friend looked in disgust._

_"I'm reporting this now!  Come on, children, I've got a treat for you."  They nodded and went with him, hoping desperately that daddy would be OK.  They looked at him wistfully.  "Look what you've done!  These children have been abused!  Do you deny that?"_

_"It wasn't me...  They were abused, but not... by me"_

_Another rack of sobs tore through the woman.  "No!  It was your hate!  For your own children!  How could you!  I loved you!"  Her frailty was pronounced._

_"But... It wasn't me... It was her... the kids...  Her..."_

_"You heard her!  Don't even try to shift the blame!" The friend yelled.  The kids ran up to him, hiding behind his leg.  There were tears running from their faces.  Mom was hurting daddy. "Come along, children.  We'll put you somewhere safe."_

_"You'll take us away from—"_

_"Yes, I'll take you away from... from... that."  The children misunderstood.  They hugged his legs, as if to say thank you.  "You see that?  They're __happy__ to get away form you.  I'm calling the courts!"_

That was all it took for Eighteen's eyes to tear. The court proceeding went badly, as the children were the only witnesses.  They were too afraid to say anything, and eventually they were dismissed.  If only...  It was too late.  The custody went to the mother.  They didn't tell anybody.   They were too scared of their mother to say anything.  They knew they would leave by 18, but by then, Gero came.

Eighteen calmly got up, ripped off the straight jacket and quietly walked out of the padded cell into the street.

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The knife flew down and stopped right before it reached his stomach.  Something was stopping him.  He grunted.  It was something physical.  For some reason this... pocket of air seemed to be stronger than him.  He lifted the knife in the air again.  It flew down again.  It was stopped again.  Inches from his stomach.  Suddenly, the knife flew out from his hands.  He gasped, his previously determined eyes showing shock.

'Baka...'

"Father?"

'You don't deserve to call me that.  Suicide?  That is dishonorable'

"Hari Kiri—"

'An honorable Saiyan would die fighting.  Not some suicide pish-posh.  The only heir to the Saiyan throne.  The only Saiyan left, and he dies with suicide.  He should die with glory, in a bang.  He should die fighting. With his enemy's blood in his hands.  Not his own.  You disgrace me.'

"But Father... I have nothing to live for."

'You have many people to live for.  One of which I will not name'

"What..?  Who do you mean?"

'Figure it out on your own.  You will find that you are surprised.  I was. I'm going now.  You're on your own.  And don't try it,' the voice left him yet again and Trunks felt that familiar smack against the back of his head.  Trunks shook his head, his lavender hair swirling.  He was having second thoughts about Crunchy Bears.  He got up off the floor and looked around.  Apparently, the storage area led to his old playroom.  He always wondered why it was downstairs.  He walked inside the long abandoned room.

His toys were scattered about and a few fluffy little animals were stacked together in the center.  He smiled.  It was a happy place in his life.  Even Gohan knew naught of it.  He looked to the shelf.  There was a battered plastic radio.  Trunks hoped it still worked.  He fiddled with it until he was sure he had a frequency he liked.  He turned it on, and he heard a strange song.

_Wonderful_

_I close my eyes when I get too sad_

_I think thoughts that I know are bad_

_Close my eyes and I count to ten_

_Hope it's over when I open them_

_I want the things that I had before_

_Like a Star Wars poster on my bedroom door_

_I wish I could count to ten_

_Make everything be wonderful again_

_Hope my mom and I hope my dad_

_Will figure out why they get so mad_

_Hear them scream, I hear them fight_

_They say bad words that make me wanna cry_

_Close my eyes when I go to bed_

_And I dream of angels who make me smile_

_I feel better when I hear them say_

_Everything will be wonderful someday_

_Promises mean everything when you're little_

_And the world's so big_

_I just don't understand how_

_You can smile with all those tears in your eyes_

_Tell me everything is wonderful now_

_Na na na na na na na_

_Please don't tell me everything is wonderful now_

_I go to school and I run and play_

_I tell the kids that it's all okay_

_I like to laugh so my friends won't know_

_When the bell rings I just don't wanna go home_

_Go to my room and I close my eyes_

_I make believe that I have a new life_

_I don't believe you when you say_

_Everything will be wonderful someday_

_Promises mean everything when you're little_

_And the world is so big_

_I just don't understand how_

_You can smile with all those tears in your eyes_

_When you tell me everything is wonderful now_

_I don't wanna hear you tell me everything is wonderful now_

_I don't wanna hear you say_

_That I will understand someday_

_No, no, no, no_

_I don't wanna hear you say_

_You both have grown in a different way_

_No, no, no, no_

_I don't wanna meet your friends_

_And I don't wanna start over again_

_I just wanna my life to be the same_

_Just like it used to be_

_Some days I hate everything_

_I hate everything_

_Everyone and everything_

_Please don't tell me everything is wonderful now_

_I don't wanna hear you tell me everything is wonderful now_

Strangely, The song touched him.  500 miles away, it touched an android who had but a few hours to live.

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Eighteen walked down the afternoon street, with her back hunched looking down at her feet.  She was bitterly thinking of the woman who called herself mother, when her head cocked up.  It was as if she was a radio receiver.  One of the few things she regretted doing was destroying most of the stations.  The sound was played, but not in her ears.  It was in her head.  It was as though it portrayed her emotions.  Her mind was entranced and her eyes sparkled.  Did someone understand?  It was like her, and the friend that picked her up, forcing daddy to go to the court where the mean judge made them stay with Mom.  Eighteen laughed.  Did her mindset just revert to a small little child's?  Well, at least she was away from that... thing now.  If there was only one thing she could thank Gero for, it was the absence of her mom in her life.  Wait, she had two things.  The absence of her mom, and the former presence of Trunks.  Tears leaked in her eyes as a sad smile shone on her face.

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            A/N: THAT was my longest chapter (formerly my two shortest ones), by a few hundred words or so (4186 words total!  Count 'em yourself!  Including A/N!).  If you wanted to know, Hari Kiri was an ancient way to commit suicide in Japan.  I thought it would fit.  People who had disgraced themselves or dishonored their family name performed it to restore honor.  They fell to their knees, pulled out a long, ceremonial dagger, and sliced their stomach open, from one side to the other, as they looked down to watch their guts spill out.  Sho' is purdy!  Anyway...  I compiled a few pics and created this really cool title/cover thing that would be great for this fic.  In fact, I got it all out of one picture.  I did everything but the actual drawing.  I even colored most of it!  I cut, pasted, enlarged, reduced, dissolved, and texted (is that even word?  It should be).  Originally every one of the subjects were to scale in comparison to each other.  It's really cool.  Tell me if you want it sent to you!  Just either sign in or include the e-mail in the little e-mail box that pops up in the review!  Which means review!  Oh yeah, and the son in there doesn't even belong to me.  Or I'd be quite a poet.  It belongs to Everclear.  I thought it fit for the story.  Anyway, review!


	7. Confusing Cheese

**The Sorrow Of Love:**

Everything can go so wrong 

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****

Chapter Six- 

**Confusing Cheese**

****

Eighteen snapped back into reality.  'I really need some new clothes,' She thought, reverting to some of her normal behavior.  Her clothes were in fact, a mess.  Her formerly long-sleeved shirt was torn up near her elbows and her jeans had large burn marks on them.  The body of her shirt was torn a few inches a below a... compromising area.  In the corner, there was some blood.  Her boots were covered with soot, but otherwise Ok.

'I think I know just the place,' She thought as she headed down a familiar street.  She turned up through an alley and exited to a larger avenue.  It was mostly a commercial district, with a few warehouses here and there.  She walked across the street, disregarding the pedestrian crossing, and a few cars slammed the brakes.  She took little, if any, notice.  Some of the drivers stayed in their car, too afraid to say anything.  The others walked up to her, yelling and shouting.  She walked on, still oblivious.

Coincidentally, she happened to walk by an electronics store (Radio Ranch), and a news broadcast was being played.  It flashed her face on the screen several times and went to the voice.

"And we have reports that the one who calls him android Seventeen is gone.  Android Eighteen however, still remains on the loose.  If you happen to see this face (the screen flashed her face again), then contact the proper authorities.  Our new weapons alert systems seem to be working, but every soldier except a few ranking officers denied it.  Many of them seem to recall a golden haired boy had destroyed him.  (He chuckled).  Did you catch that Jim?  A boy.  Many soldiers have reported this though.  A sketch artist shows this body, with his hair sticking up, at an almost impossible angle."  They flashed Trunks' whole body on a sketchpad with complete color.  Apparently with so many people an artist can provide such great detail. "If you see this boy, also call the authorities.  They want to question him and his methods.  Remember, ladies and gentleman, don't become a hero and vigilante.  You'll just get yourself killed.  Leave this up to the professionals.  This is Jon Johnson reporting.  Jim?  I hear we have an interesting story about cropcircles..." His voice faded out as the people who were harassing her looked at her fearfully.  She was watching with some interest then turned around, and raised her eyebrows.  Smirking she said, "boo".  They all scattered.  Still smirking Eighteen walked down looking for her clothing store.

As Eighteen looked here and there she noticed some fast food places, and fairgrounds on the other side of the street.  She always wondered how fast food worked.  It was never really explained to her.  Most modern conveniences were, but Eighteen never really needed to eat, Gero must've neglected it.  She decided that she would have to have some fast food after she got some clothes.  And maybe go to the fair.  She smiled.  No cruel smirk, or destructive laugh, or even a grimace.  She smiled.

A few minutes passed as Eighteen walked down that peaceful street, gazing at some familiar stores.

"Papa Pillones Place.  I loved that man.  Spent too much time giving away free candy to make any money.  Big Bubba's barber Building.  Nice man.  I wonder who runs it now.  He never had a wife or any kids...  Ah, Kate's Clothing."  She said softly to herself.  She used to hate the alliteration that plagued the street.  Now she just laughed.  As she walked inside she heard the familiar tinkle of the bell, and saw the familiar pink and black that was painted all over the store.  She noticed that the shelves themselves were also painted this way.  Nothing had changed since her last visit to the store.  Except for the clothes, of course.  They seemed to be in fashion.  Or not.  She assumed that any clothes would do in times like this.  Times she created.

She blushed furiously as she picked out some clothes.  She already knew she was going to blow, but she wanted to at least look good before...  If people would remember her, they would remember her with style.  A new emotion overwhelmed her.  It was certainly new, and different, but didn't instill her with excitement.  It wasn't the pink of teen crushes, nor was it the blood red of true love.  It was the blue-black of guilt.  There wouldn't be many people to remember her.  And it was her fault.  Just like Bulma.  She hadn't truly wanted to kill Bulma.  She hadn't known that at the time, but she really didn't.  Of course, she hadn't wanted to protect her body from the blast she knew was headed towards them, but she did it, automatically.  It was like a second instinct.  Maybe her emotional repression was slowing down.  That would explain Trunks... and the guilt... There was too much to think of lately.

Without looking at the clerk, she picked up a few shirts, and headed towards the jean rack.

"Miss?" The old clerk said.  She had black-grey hair and a tanned complexion.  It gave the appearance of old leather, especially when she smiled.  Her face crinkled as the well-worn smile lines moved to familiar places.  She had a bounce in her step and always had a twinkle in her blue eyes.  Overall, she had a sunny disposition that would brighten the cloudiest day.  No one would've guessed she was suicidal.  No one except her husband, of course.

"Excuse me, miss?" She called again.  Eighteen turned around suddenly, with a surprised look on her face.

"Ye—Yes?" She stuttered hoping, that she wouldn't be recognized.  'Too late for that anyway' she thought, wryly, clearly remembering Radio Ranch.

"I was wondering if you knew someone.  I'm sure you haven't but... I must ask.  Do you know of a Joy?  Joy Sakinawa?  She may be your grandmother.  I was hoping if..." She finished off, pleading for there to be recognition.

"I... I... Don't know"

"Surely you must know who you are..."

"I... Please I'm trying.  I may very well be."

"Either way, I'm giving you these clothes on the house"

"Oh, no please.  I can pay for them"

"Well, I'm running a sale.  Next ten seconds, everything is free.  There you go.  No charity involved"

"Thank you... Kathryn.  Yes, I believe your name is Kathryn"

"Well, yes it is, but anybody could deduce from the sign"

"No, I think I knew you.  When I was little.  You were my... Friend..."  Eighteen tried that word out on her tongue.  Not that she used her tongue that much, but it was a nice sounding word.  Friend.  It rolled around in her head.  Friend.

"But that would make you... that's not possible. I would like to assume, of course.  But that's not right.  That would make **you** Joy.  Well then.  Hello Joy, where've you been the last 50 years?"

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Trunks threw the radio at the wall.  He needed some time to... think.  He walked up the stairs in silence, and tried the sister building of Capsule Corps.  It was mainly a large laboratory, and it was about half as large.  The automatic doors wouldn't open, so he walked right through them, head bent down.  He climbed up these stairs, taking care to avoid the large gaps and cracks.  He looked outside.  It was very bleak.  The bird's nest and its eggs were scattered around, broken. A large cement slab lay there for no reason, cracked down the middle.  He kept walking upwards when he arrived at a hallway.  This time, the doors worked.

All of it looked dismal and in poor repair.  One door seemed to stand out to Trunks.  It was bright orange, while the others were gunmetal grey.  Trunks never remembered a door that was orange, but he hadn't been to the top floor that much anyway.  He walked on inside and immediately fell face first into a bowl of Crunchy Bears.

"What tha... Oh god... huh?" He said confused.  He looked at what he tripped on.  A block of cheese.  A wheel to be specific.   Trunks lay there, head poised above a bowl of crunchy bears, looking at a very yellow wheel of cheese.  Most likely cheddar.  Then the cheese moved.  Trunks got up and looked behind the cheese.  Ah, a bunny was there, twittering nervously.

Trunks figured that Gohan, who was always a proper guinea pig for Bulma, left the bowl there, but the cheese seemed to be there for no apparent reason.  Trunks looked at the bunny.  It seemed to have a needle in its leg, hanging haphazardly.  Trunks tried to calm the nervous rabbit as he slowly pulled out the needle.  The rabbit seemed to know what he was doing and stood still.  Or as still as a rabbit could get, with it twitching its nose every so often.  He finally pulled it out and looked at the label.  It seemed to be the latest of D45xf.RH8 or Dx8 for short.  It was supposed to increase stamina, but it did nothing except make all the monkeys lose their hair.  Like a monkey on chemotherapy.  Trunks always thought they looked like aliens.  If he knew what they looked like. Except for Piccolo.  And the Saiyans.  Oh yes, and Freiza.  Trunks thought he was thinking too much.

The bunny curled up in his hand and resumed shivering, as if the needle momentarily stopped it.   Trunks looked at the cheese.  It was quite hard and Trunks wasn't exactly in the mood to eat.  Moments like these were rare but they still happened.  He looked at the rabbit, its paw was upset and it was positioned awkwardly.  He tried to tear of some of his shirt, but evidently the shirt didn't want to tear.  He tried to tear slightly harder, but then the whole shirt decided to fall off, leaving Trunks bare-chested with a small piece of fabric in one hand a small furry mammal in the other.  He took a crunchy bear and brought it too the bunny's foot.  He wrapped the fabric around the bear and the bunny, creating a splint.  Trunks smiled at his handiwork.  If he could only do that with machines, like Grandpa and Bulma.  Of course, he assumed they would have the same ease with the bunny, he was proud nevertheless.  While he was grinning like a fool, his acute hearing picked up a growl.   What being smaller than a cat would have been bothered by the androids?  What being larger than a cat can survive the attacks?

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A/N:  Ok, that was a pretty stupid cliffie, but it was one nonetheless.  So ha!  Take that, AGalaxiaGoddess!  Oh yes, this happens to be a chapter that happens to be shorter than I expected.  In the original draft, it was actually the longest, but I moved some scenes to other chapters and deleted whole paragraphs of writing.  Oh yeah, sorry this chapter sucked, it was rushed and forced.  But now I have a week for the Sunday one again!  And maybe a few days for Wednesday.  Ok, a week and Two days for both.  That's good!  Special Thanks to: A-non-ey Mouse, Victorbot, and AGalaxiaGoddess.  Keep reviewing guys!  Oh yes, and for you new people, review, and I'll thank you!  If you have any queries, just review and I'll tell you, to the best of my abilities.  Seeya!


	8. Flight School

**The Sorrow of Love:**

**Everything Can Go So Wrong**

****

A/N:  Ok, I don't have many of these up here, but just to tell you, I myself believe that Eighteen is OoC in this chapter.  She just gained her memories so A little leeway can present itself.  Tell me what you think about Eighteen's chara. in this chapter!

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Chapter Seven- Flight School 

"So... you **are** Joy" The woman said with hope shining in her eyes.

Eighteen stared at the clerk.  "I guess so"

"Whatever happened to Jon?" she asked, clearly worried.

"He... had business." She said, her icy blue eyes darkening.  Changing disposition rapidly she looked up at Kate and smiled.  "Now how much do these really cost?"

"I told you.  I was having a sale.  No one else seemed to know about it.  Too bad for them."  Eighteen smiled as she pulled her friend into a hug.  "Now all you need is a place to change and bathe"

"I'll just go to a hotel.  I have enough mon—"

"The Red Ribbon Army destroyed it.  Or, an eight-year-old kid did while destroying them."

"Goku..."

"Yes, I believe that was his name.  Now I'm going to ask you a serious question," Kate said almost suspiciously.  Her face was hard-set but there was laughter behind her eyes.

Eighteen raised her eyebrows in surprise.  What could Kate want from her? "Yes..."

"How come you still look 20, but I'm an old hag?"

Eighteen looked at Kathryn flabbergasted, not expecting this question. "Well-I-I umm...  I might as well tell you.  I'm an android.  Android Eighteen to be exact.  I'm the one... I'm the one who was ruthlessly killing humans.  I regret it now but... I'm so sorry, it's just... Sorry.  If I could pull back actions..." She finished off, hoping that Kathryn would suddenly turn cold and turn her away.  Eighteen think she deserved it.  But... she had just gotten to know her again.  Kate's eyes' hardened looking straight at Eighteen.

"Well, it was you who killed them.  I guess I must retract my offer"

"About the clothes?  I'll gladly pay for them.  But, please, listen to me.  I didn't know what I was doing.  If I could give back every single life J-Jon and I killed, I would gladly," She said stumbling over the unfamiliar use of the name, "I'm just—I didn't know.  I didn't know..."  The clerk just smiled.

"Really, Joy.  You didn't know what I was retracting.  I was retracting my offer of just **letting** you walk away without visiting my house and taking a bath"

"Oh... I'm pleased and... honored"

"Now you make me sound old."  Kate stated, surprising Eighteen or yet a third time in five minutes.  "Just walk down to my house, you know where it is.  I'll expect you'll find a surprise" she said almost boyishly, sounding 20 again.  This was the most fun she had in say... 50 years. She laughed at this almost ludicrous thought.  "Just go, Joy.  I'd really hate to see you blow this place up," she giggled with almost girlish delight.  It just so happened that a customer walked in at that very moment.  It was very odd for him to see a 70-year-old woman get red in the cheeks from laughing.  He just shook his head wondering at all the happenings of today.

Eighteen walked out the door actually smiling as she looked for the familiar boulevard. As she walked down she couldn't help but admire all the beautiful trees lining the street.  They seemed to be a recent addition.  Eighteen didn't know what to think at Kate's last statement.

She looked down the street again and found out what Kate meant.  Her house was large.  No, it was simply huge.  Eighteen didn't know what to think.  Last time she saw Kate her house was small, only six rooms.  This one had six floors.  Of course, Eighteen wasn't counting what could be an underground garage and the growths that protruded from the house.  Kate had really... upgraded.  She strolled up to the house, and rang the doorbell, hoping she wouldn't impose upon them.  "Them" being the people who lived there besides Kate.  She wouldn't have a big house here for nothing.

"Er, hello.  Who might you be?" an old man asked.  He was bald, and had a blue shirt wit black pants.  His shirt's breastpocket had glasses and a pen.  His shoes were old brown slip-ons and his socks were a dull grey. He pulled out his glasses and looked at the girl.  His brown eyes seemed to have multiplied in size.  The glasses were quite thick.  "You seem to be familiar.  Come right in," he kindly said as he gestured inside.  He turned around and looked at her again.  He gasped, drawing in a lot more breath than normal.  He stopped Eighteen before coming in with his hand.  "You... You're... the android.  I saw the news!  J-j-just g-go away!  I don't want to be hurt," he stuttered almost incoherently.  His voice resembled his shaking, knobby knees.

"Respected sir, I don't want to hurt you, I just want to-"

"Well, I'm not going down without a fight!" He yelled, cutting her off and changing his previously frightened attitude.  He picked up a shotgun that was within reach of the door and put his explosive bullets in the barrel. He aimed the shotgun straight at Eighteen's heart.

"Sir, I just wanted to-"

"Where's your goddamn brother, anywho?"

Eighteen's face darkened and her voice turned cold. "Don't talk about my brother.  Al I wanted was-"

The mad laughed in a manner that he thought was evil.  It was in fact, quite the opposite, but no one was there to laugh so he just continued "being evil".  "Why not?  Had a fight, did you?  How sad...  Well, there'll be one less android to hurt us normal humans," He said, referring to her apparent demise at the end of her shotgun.  Eighteen took this as a reference to her long-lost brother

"Look, sir," Eighteen said, gritting her teeth while she was trying to control her temper, "I don't want to hurt you.  Kate sent me here to change and take a bath, if you don't mind"

"But I do.  You steal those clothes from our store?  You must've used your 'mind control' abilities to possess her.  Well I won't stand for it," He yelled, cocking the gun.

"I don't **have** mind control abilities!  I just came to—"

The man laughed again, trying to be evil yet again.  "Well, where's your receipt?  Ha!  You don't have one!"

"I got this for fr—"

"Either way, you'll get a taste of this here lead!"

Eighteen was tired of being cut-off.  Who could be this thick and still be wed by Kate?  Wait, Of course.  Rob.  The only one who could get away with being an idiot in front of Kate.  Well either way, she gripped the barrel of the gun and squeezed.  It fell off.  The old man was speechless.

"Maybe, _good sir_ you don't recognize me."

"I know you!  Don't lie to me.  Only Eighteen could've done that!  You're the android!  Get away!  P-p-please.  I-I don't w-want t-t-t-to be hurt.  Just go" He stuttered as he held his arms in front of his face, trying to protect himself pitifully.  Eighteen looked at the old man in almost disgust.

"Rob!  Stand up straight.  Face me!  No!  In the eye.  Look at me, Rob.  I want you to look at me in the eye!  Good.  Now back straight, and chin up!  I don't care how old you are.  You always faced danger in the eye, and I want you to do the same to me." She snapped at Rob.  He quickly complied.  In the back of his age-fogged mind, he wondered what was going on.  The only two people that could do that to him with such authority were both gone.  But the girl looked like one of them, now that he thought about it.  He looked up in hope.

"Joy?  Is that you?  Please be you.  Or her Granddaughter.  You're her Granddaughter, aren't you?" He whispered, as Eighteen visibly relaxed.

"No, Rob, it really is me.  I'm Joy.  You finally recognized me.  I just thought that... Thank you."

"Thank you for what?  I almost blew your heart out.  Not that I couldn't when we were 24..." He said mischievously grinning.  Eighteen looked at Rob in surprise.

"Why you old coot!  You didn't... not that you could... just... no!"

"I assume that's my welcome?  What happened to the Flying Four?" He asked as Eighteen rolled her eyes.  "Look, I know it was... a foolish name, but we agreed on it, right?  Am I right?"

"Yea, I guess you were, old man.  But still...  The Flying Four?  Well, I guess it's fitting because two of the mem—no, one of the members can fly" She said, trying to correct herself before she thought about it.  The old man looked upon in understanding.

"Jon...  He was the Seventeen, wasn't he?  And he was killed?  By a boy?"

"Yes, but I'd rather not thi—"

"If I ever get my hands on him, I swear I'll get him.  I promise over your brother's body"

"No, Rob, the boy was right.  We were... we were killing... and destroying.  He stopped... Seventeen"

"I'm sorry, I really stuck my foot in it.  Well, would you like a bath or something?"

"Of course, that's why I came wasn't it?  But first Rob, a gift.  It's the gift of flight.  You wanted to fly, didn't you?  Just wait," She said as she was simultaneously running a backup program in her head.  Her index finger popped off and she caught it with the same hand.  She flicked off the fingernail with her other hand and pulled out a chip.  I was an odd chip.  It absorbed itself into any surface that it recognized as skin and gave the recipient the knowledge and energy to fly.  Eighteen thought it was absurd.  Who needed a backup chip?  She turned Rob around so that his back was facing her.  He put the chip on his neck and it eerily dissolved the skin around he rest of it and sunk in.  The skin instantly regrew.  Rob shivered.

"Now jump, you still have some muscles yet.  Even I can see them, flapping in the wind"

"Oh be quiet, you rascal" He tried to yell as he jumped and found himself performing Cartwheels in the air.  To him, this was the ultimate freedom.  He had really wanted to be a pilot, but the hard truth was, There were no flight schools in the town and his parents couldn't afford a ticket to the nearest town and an enrollment.  He settled with a bachelor's in TV production.  Of course, no plane could ever compete with he power of flight under your own thrust.  He laughed almost heartily as he landed.  His laughs seemed to have a different affect than they were actually intended for.

"Joy, you made me feel so young.  It completed me.  I feel like I could live another 20 years without aging!"

"Please, call me Eighteen, it's the only thing I can respond to.  And you probably could live another 20 years without aging.  Now, can I get a bath?"  She said, obviously elated at her friends' happiness.

"20 years... but Kate, won't she..?"

Eighteen's eyes widened at this new revelation.  "I'm sure she'd understand," she said, horrified at what she'd done.  Rob would outlive Kate by quite a bit.

"Oh yes, I'm sure she would..." he replied, hollowly.

"Oh, I'm so sorry.  I wasn't thinki—"

"No, you didn't know.  I'll just make some tea and bring out some biscuits.  Come back after you're done with the bath." He muttered as Eighteen nodded solemnly.  How could she be so **stupid**!  She was immensely idiotic.  Now Rob was going to hate her _again_ and he was going to have to suffer _again_.  She walked through the large kitchen, ignoring the skittering chefs. And turned right.  She walked with her head down through the hallway.  She turned right again—straight into a pantry.  She excused herself from the chef inside and walked outside again.  She looked up again and a careful observer might report that there was a glisten in her eye, but it happened to disappear within a second.  Many would've sworn it was never there.  Nevertheless, she continued down hallways until she found a bathroom.  She walked into it and stripped herself of her dirty clothes, revealing some smooth skin.  She walked over to the tap and turned it on.  As soon as it was filled with warm water, Eighteen sank into her first luxurious bath in fifty years...

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A/N:  There, that was my seventh Chapter, revolving around Eighteen.  I swear chapter nine has nothing but Trunks to compensate for it.  Unless I change it, of course.  If I combined to chapters, it would be to long.  Anyway, I think the next chapter would be to short unless I combine it again.  I don't know.  No, I won't.  You won't even hear from Trunks for another three days!  Ha!  I made you wait a week for Trunks!  Well when I rewrote this chapter, I added an element even I didn't know I would add until it was too late. Meh.  It makes Part two more interesting.  Title ideas anyone?  Ah, and I finally got my High school classes.  Argh!  I don't think I'll like that place.  High School starts on September Third, so All my chapters after that will be posted every Sunday.  Well, actually September Third's on a Tuesday and I'll update the following Wednesday, but after that, only Sunday's.  Oh and be sure to tell me if you think Eighteen was too OoC!  Review!


	9. A missing Piece

**The Sorrow Of Love:**

**Everything Can go so wrong**

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Chapter Eight- 

**A missing piece**

As the large creature started walking across the hall, Trunks heard a deep booming laugh.  Trunks decided to hide the rabbit.  It was very serene at the moment, conflicting greatly with Trunks' emotions.  The bunny fit perfectly in a niche under the broken table.  As he heard the thing get closer, he tried to power up.  He tried reaching his second level again, hoping to be able to take enough care not to blow everything up.

But he couldn't even do that even if he didn't care not to destroy everything within a 50-foot radius.  He couldn't concentrate.  A certain blonde kept popping into his mind, flitting about it like a spirit who only wishes to be seen when it scares you.  He couldn't pull it.  His hair flashed between purple and gold as the ghosts of the past haunted him, seemingly berating him for his inability to fight.  His pupils were twin pools of darkness and electricity coursed throughout his body, sometimes discharging at random points outside it.  Almost randomly he tried to remember Gohan and at some of these times his hair would fly up, but slowly droop down again, as if not willing.

This never happened before.  It was like an innate ability.  It was inborn with the Saiyan.  It was easier, when he had turned before.  Gohan was gone.  It was as simple as that.  And then his hair flared up and his eyes turned that special color, and his power increased.  More so when Bulma was gone...

His hair flared up and his eyes flashed.  He would complete this.  Complete it or die trying.  His muscles contracted and relaxed so many times he was convinced he was having spasms.  He dropped onto his hands and knees to compensate this.  No one experienced this before.  Bulma would've told him.  It was gone.  He was empty again.  His muscles throbbed in pain in sync with his head.  What was going on?  It was in his blood.  Goku never had a problem changing, and neither did Vegeta either, Trunks wagered.  And if Gohan had trouble with it, Trunks would eat his foot.  It was riding a bike.  You couldn't forget.  It just couldn't be right.  How did he do it before?  He just though of Bulma and Gohan and let the energy pull itself out. Was the energy gone?  It couldn't be.  He still felt the pull.  And it reached throughout him, getting to every nerve and cell.  He tried amplifying it like Gohan taught him, but Trunks simply couldn't do it.

He quit.  He failed.  There was no excuse, and no euphemisms.  On his hands and knees, like a dog, he started crying in shame.  The tears swept down his coarse soot-stricken face, leaving a trail of clear skin as they rolled through.  He had failed.  He couldn't even save himself this time.  All those people.  Dead, lifeless like Gohan, some with their eyes staring yet not staring and others without eyes at all.  Like Bulma.  Yamcha.  Like both Tien and Choatzu.  They stood no chance, but tried helping as they could.  All of the Z warriors.  Gone.  The innocent and not-so-innocent people of the world.  Gone.  Every one of them dying in vain.  Trunks pounded the cement floor, tears flowing now.  The pavement cracked and his hand bled from so many repetitions.  He felt weak and frail.  As the tears descended, they formed a pool on the floor, mixing with the blood and the chemicals spilled there.

The pain in his head increased.  He buried his face in his hands.  He new he couldn't fight this new threat.  He just wouldn't be able to concentrate. It was like a dam, stopping the energy from getting from in his heart to his very able body.  The throbbing reached a climax and Trunks submitted to the eternal darkness that greeted him.  For the third time that day, he blacked out.

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Eighteen was feeling refreshed.  As soon as she stepped out of her bath she dried her sweet smelling hair.  She changed into her new clothes.  She was wearing a lavender choker around her neck, and had a periwinkle blue shirt with a flower stamped on.  The shirt had a low neck and was short-sleeved, and showed her navel.  She was also wearing loose-fitting jeans that were deep blue.

This time she consulted the building map and saw that she could take a direct route to the living room, where, she assumed, Rob was waiting for her.

It just so happened that he was. As he sat the biscuits on the table, he glanced over to the picture standing on the table.  It was a snapshot of their track meet.  They were fast enough to advance, but they were by no means popular.  They were their own little group.  It had a silly name, but they didn't much care.  The flying four they called themselves.  Mostly fashioned after Rob's desire to fly.  He remembered wistfully the friendship they had.  They all had little money; they could only go to the community college.  When they were eight, they promised each other that they would be best friends forever.  It was rough in high school, but they pulled through.  They were happily in the second year of college when it happened.  Joy majored in something dealing with child-care, hoping to become an employee at a nursery school, and her brother Jon wanted to teach.  They wanted to put into society what they never had at home:  A caring environment.  Rob wanted to take something that would bring him as close as airplanes as possible, so he took aviation mechanics, but then later switched to TV production, because he couldn't handle all the new concepts about planes.  Kate wasn't always practical, so she took fashion design.  It seemed to have worked for her.  His eyes watered when they seemed to have disappeared.  Almost immediately afterward, the red ribbon army took over searching for some magic orange ball that was reported in the area.

His eyes started to tear, but he blinked and they disappeared.  Was she the same?  Was she different?  Which would he be happier with?  He interrupted his thoughts as she entered the room, look at various odds and ends.  She floated down into her seat and they stared at each other.  Neither of them wanted to mention Eighteen's mistake.  Rob admitted that Eighteen did not know and therefore nit was not her fault.  He also admitted that he always wanted to fly, but he realized that such a guilty pleasure came at a high price.  He couldn't believe he would now outlive Kate by at least 20 years.  He tried to avoid the subject when he said,  "So where've you been?"

He winced.  Bad topic.  He tried to correct it when Eighteen replied, "I'd rather not discuss the issue, if that's fine with you."  Rob nodded.  "What about you?  Where've you been?"

Rob nodded almost to vehemently and regaled his stories with Eighteen, mostly after she disappeared, but he also reminisced a little with her too.  More often than not, Eighteen had to correct Rob's memory of things.  Right now he was talking about his and Kate's eventual marriage.

"... and I guess after it all happened we grew to depend on each other for support even if it was only for two years. We married because we felt a companionship no one else had with us.  We love each other, and I would certainly die... for... her..." at this point, he began to tear, "but I guess we never really found true love.  I think we were too close in the beginning for that" He said finally after an hour of stories.  He was frankly tuckered out.

"What time does Kate get home?"

  


"What? Oh.  She gets home every day at 4:32 every day at around 45 seconds.  Starting to get annoying," He said as Eighteen laughed.  She checked her clock to find the time.  It was indeed 4:29:52, but as she searched her program for the clock she stumbled upon a different digit-counter.  This one was counting down.  Down towards... she followed the wiring.  It was an odd way of saying it, because she was merely checking on/off switches in her body but it was basically the same.  It seemed to lead to a silicon chip near her core supply.  It's on/off wires were set to... they were set to a bomb.  That's what it was.  It was a bomb.  The realization stunned her.  She was going to die.  The immortal android was going to die.  She was going to die in five short hours.

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A/N: CLIFFIE!!!!!!  Yes, me friends I believe I have finally managed to bring a cliffhanger into this desperately hanging plot!  MWA HA HA HA HA!  Take that loyal (and not so loyal) fans!  Oh and Victorbot, be nice to a-non-ey mouse, she only wanted to beat you in reviews first.  Anyway, at the most recent count, I found out that I had thirty(I'm really good at math if you can't tell)!  Yay!  I'm not threatening reviews over chapters, because I will still upload if you flame me or something like that.    I only need a few more chappies and I'm done.  Like... 5 more.  At this rate, I'll get closer to 60 reviews than 45!  Thanks a lot, guys!  Just remember to keep it up!  You've inspired me to write more!


	10. Doc Martin

**The Sorrow Of Love:**

**Everything Can Go So Wrong**

            A/N: I know the chapter title is spelled wrong, but there's a reason for that.  You'll see.  And hopefully laugh.  It's my pathetic attempt at jokemaking (That's my new word).

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Chapter Nine- 

**Doc Martin**

Trunks woke up painfully.  For the third time that day, he wondered where he was.  Unfortunately, he wasn't where he was when he blacked out.  He was strapped to a very uncomfortable mahogany table, spread-eagled.  It was a dark room he was lying in.  He couldn't see much, there were no windows, and he couldn't find the door.  Still strapped in, he cupped one of his hands and created a small energy flare.  This seemingly simple task made his head spin.  He closed his eyes and focused himself.  He blocked himself from going unconscious again by focusing on simple methodic thoughts.  He didn't learn this before, but it seemed to have helped.

"2+2 is 4, 4+4 is 8, 8+8 is 16, 16 +16 is 32, 32+32 is 64...  There, focused.  I'm awake."  He groaned.  He looked up.  The harsh light in the energy flare put the room in to view.  Everything was grey and in some places, mottled with black.  It appeared to be polished concrete, if there was such a thing.  The door itself as almost indistinguishable, except for a fine crack that ran down the wall from halfway up the room.  He wondered why he was brought to a place, or how he even got here.  He eventually decided that blacking out was always a bad idea.

An hour later Trunks was feeling cramped, and very uncomfortable.  He thought that maybe he should stay in the straps because he didn't know the way out and he'd learn why the people who dragged him there kept him there.  Trunks was starting to regret that decision. He released the energy flare a while a go because he knew that every second the energy flare was in place, he was drained of a little energy.  Another reason was because the harsh light made his eyes sore.  Suddenly, the heavy concrete door opened.  A figure blocked most of the light from getting through.  From Trunks' view, he could see that the figure was somewhat large, but not fat.  It was indistinguishable between male and female.  A voice sounded out from the figure.

"Why are you here?" It called to Trunks.  It was also indeterminate in the category of gender.

"I don't really know," Trunks answered honestly.  "You brought me here for all I know."

"Ah yes, you're the kid we found.  Thought you were a spy of "them" or something."

"Them?"

"The Androids!  You've heard of them, I suppose," it said bitingly, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Oh sorry."

"Well android, really.  One was killed.  The people say by a kid, but I don't believe them.  They could only go by the new weapon they've developed." It said, not really caring what Trunks said. As if a switch turned on, she snapped her neck towards Trunks.  "You'll be wanting to get out, I suppose?"

"No, not really, I can manage," he muttered as he stood up, not being able to bear not exercising for so long.  The figure just stood there, presumably staring.

"You're the kid, aren't you?"

"Er… yea, I am, but I'd rather talk about something else.  The weather for example.  Looks like it's going to storm.  What do you think?"

"Only... the androids could've gotten out of that.  You killed the black haired devil.  What has become of the blonde one?"

Trunks' voice turned hard, as he spoke through gritted teeth.  "Don't talk about her again!"

The other's voice was stuttering as it backed up, allowing Trunks to walk through.  The person eventually calmed down and started talking about where they were.  As it turned out, she was female.  And a commander of this the defensive bunker they were in.

"... and as you can see, we have all sorts of plans and escapes if the androids should ever discover us," she finished off, with obvious pride in her voice. Trunks just nodded continuously, waiting to see if he could ask his question soon.  "Now then... any questions about operations?  Food?"

"Er... no, but do you know where the rabbit was?"

"The rabbit we found nibbling at your ear?"

"Sure..."

"Well your rabbit—"

"He's not mine"

"Whatever, he's in Habitat B its..." But by the time the commander could say Habitat B, Trunks was already off, searching the building map for the habitats.  Quickly, he found a directory, and he raced off to where the Habitat was.  As he walked up to the large steel doors marked with the stamp "Habitat B".

The doors hissed open at his arrival.  He took a big breath and entered.  He tripped.  He caught himself right before he faceplanted into some deer pellets.  After that short but exciting event, Trunks found himself in a pushup position.  Craning his neck, he looked around.  Apparently there was a lot of green.  A lot.  His eyes were actually throbbing with the brightness. He had never seen this green.  All the plants were either dead or a bleak greyish green.  He looked behind him and saw a familiar black fabric.  More importantly, he found the bunny that the cloth was supposed to be attached.  The crunchy bear was still there.  He tripped over the bunny.  He sprung back up with his arms and found the bunny at his feet, sniffling at the small disturbance he caused.  He looked around again.  He couldn't believe it.  Everything was so... so... _alive_.  There were bright trees and foxholes, surrounded by purple and yellow flowers.  The system was near perfect.  It even had mosquitoes, Trunks noted, with a little annoyance.  He always psychosomatically itched whenever they bit him.  He picked up the bunny and looked at it.  It buried its nose in his callused hand and started twitching.  Trunks smiled at it.  He didn't know why he was attached to the thing.  Maybe because it the only animal in the house that didn't fear for its life.  Hell, it even did that.  It was a well of innocence in a world growing deeply stagnant.  His eyes clouded but did nothing more.

He realized that he didn't even name it.  He looked at the crunchy bear, which was supposedly representing Martin the Bear.  A corporate scandal ensued when they found out that he wasn't a real bear.  The world was crazy at times.  The splint gave him an idea, though.

"You need a name.  How about...  Doc Martin?" He asked it.  The bunny nuzzled itself further into Trunks' hand in response.  "I'll take that as a yes, then."  He laughed at its antics.  "Well, let's go then, Doc."

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            A/N:  Sorry I haven't updated in 2 weeks.  I'm a WEKK overdue.  Oh well.  High school is turning out more... interesting than I thought.  Yes... Interesting.  Anyway, what happened to A-non-ey Mouse and Victorbot?  Oh well.  You're all probably stuck in schoolwork or something.  And yes, Escandus, I'll update sooner, so you don't have to ask.  Well Thanks to: AGalaxiaGoddess, A-non-ey Mouse, Victorbot, Escandus, Kureenji (One of the best reviews I've gotten info-wise), emily, mimz (do you seriously mean what you say in the IMs?), iqra, Naomi Flugle (Finally, someone else who likes zoids!),  Silverdust, Seravy, MoriMori Eye, Nesquick11 and semi-thanks to Peirin.  I'M NOT A CHEESEBALL!  But I _do_ like the idea of girls falling for me.  Now I feel insensitive Hmm...  That was a long list… which is good!  ANYWAY, I'll try to update next Wednesday or the Sunday after that.  Depending on that, you can almost depend on that time period for updates.  Don't forget to review!  BYE!  Oh yes, and sorry if I didn't thank you!  Birdy, you don't count!


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